


Main Course

by LadyBookwormWithTeeth



Series: Cherry Verse [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Drooling, F/M, Gag, Ring-gag, Rumbelle - Freeform, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBookwormWithTeeth/pseuds/LadyBookwormWithTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle joins her Master for dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Main Course

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana, as always.

As much as Belle enjoyed when her Master invited her to join him at the table and share a meal - and as much as her sanity depended on those nights, when there were no roles to play and no duties to perform - nothing quite compared to  _this_. It soothed her while still keeping her on the edge. It was the perfect way to bring her day to a closure and, the best part, it was becoming routine, something Belle could get comfortable with, though she doubted she would ever get bored. He wouldn’t let her. Her Master always had a way to keep things interesting.

Tonight, he had opted for a metal ring gag, placed gently in her mouth and tied around her head. Something to keep her from talking, he said.

“You talk too much, dearie.”

Belle dared to roll her eyes. Her Master was a stubborn man. No matter how many times he had been the one to join  _her_ for dinner with nothing but conversation in mind, he would never admit to liking her company outside the bedroom.

He asked her to hop on the table and get on her hands and knees. When she was done obeying, saliva was already pooling underneath her tongue, urging her to swallow, but Belle fought that uncomfortable feeling. Trying to keep herself from drooling would only make her choke, she had learned that the hard way. It was best to let it slide out of her mouth. The first drop of saliva was followed by a flush of red to her face; shame for her lack of self-control, something she couldn’t quite get rid of, but maybe this wouldn’t feel as good without the humiliation it entailed.

Wrapping his hand around her hair and grabbing a fistful, her Master pushed her down carefully until her cheek was pressed to the mahogany wood. Her hair was brushed away from her face, offering a clear view of it if he wanted to look into her eyes, although Belle was sure he’d be feasting on other parts of her body. Tonight, he chose the ropes, which always demanded a little bit of extra time, but he was not in a hurry. He tied her delicate wrists to her ankles with a firm knot that snuggled her skin and was bound to leave a mark, but didn’t hurt. To keep her slippers from falling, he looped the rope underneath them and finished his handiwork by making a bow on each ankle. Belle wouldn’t see them, but there was no reason to be sloppy.

Her Master’s hands were cold when he held on to her thighs and pulled them as far apart as she could go, but Belle still felt herself warming up to the touch. She was exposed now. She was his.

Without a word, he took his place at the head of the table and started eating, taking his time to savor each bite and leaving his servant to her thoughts.

As always, she fidgeted at first. It was hard to get used to the complete immobility he demanded from her. She flexed her fingers, curled her toes inside her shoes, tensed the muscles in her body and the muscles in her sex. It felt so empty, and part of her just wanted him to knock the plates off the table and pull her close to him to be filled, as fast and as violently as he could take her. But Belle knew the wait would be so much better, if only she disciplined herself to stand still and pay attention to her own body.

There was the pounding of her heart, a quiet drumming that could be quite soothing. The feeling of her saliva, slipping out of her mouth and forming a puddle on the table, wet, hot, messy, just like she felt. The heat on her cheeks and the sound of her own breathing, mixed with the sound of her tongue laping inside her mouth, trying to manage the air, the water, the shame. And there was the sound of silverware as her Master ate, as if she wasn’t even there. As if she was nothing but a table arrangement.

But Belle was far from nothing and she knew it. She was aware of her Master’s eyes, staring at her sex, watching it glisten at candle light as she grew wet with each passing minute. She could hear the way his breath sometimes got caught in his throat. When he wasn’t paying attention, a sigh escaped his lips, delighted, almost glad to have her as his possession. When Belle felt like teasing, she’d wriggle her ass in the air, making him either slap her and order her to be quiet, or forget himself and chuckle. Either way, she was pleased.

Eventually, he would be done with the food and reach out to touch her, usually wasting no time with subtlety and pressing a thumb on her sex, stroking her most delicate part until the self-control she had struggled so hard to maintain was gone, leaving nothing but a whimpering mess in its place. Her Master could take her in any way he wanted, do whatever he wanted to her, she would strive to please him and earn her pleasure.

Afterward, he would pull her to his lap, cuddle her close. It was comforting and safe and the best way to come down from the heights he had taken her. Her Master would feed her, insist that she ate some more because her body had to be strong, offer her glasses of wine and water. He wouldn’t kiss her, but he would stroke her hair and compliment her on her beauty and self restraint.

“I am privileged to call you mine.”

Belle would sigh. Content. Fulfilled. Exhausted. In love.

But right now, all she had was the pounding of her own heart, and a long way to go.


End file.
